


when your words mean nothing, I go-

by Aanya_Inure



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hinata is clueless at first, Komaeda doesn't have any diseases, M/M, doesn't realize his mistakes, sorta...?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aanya_Inure/pseuds/Aanya_Inure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata leans forward, offering a swift and sloppy aimed kiss to a paper white cheek before turning back to exit the bedroom. His fingers work to readjust his tie. “When will you be back? Friday? Next week?”</p><p>Once again, the quiet gives hesitation.</p><p>And then; “I'm not coming back.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	when your words mean nothing, I go-

~

When the door shuts behind him, groaning in reluctance, Hinata can only agree with it's complaints. Grumbles roll from his lips as he filters fingers through his cropped hair.

“Nagito!” He calls out for the albino in question, frustration marring his brow. Letting his bag fall from his shoulder in a clutter, the brunette slips his shoes from his feet and wiggles the ache away on the plush cream carpet. An irate sigh leaves him.

Keys ringing as he claps them onto the counter, Hinata loosens his olive tie in a habitual motion, finding the kitchen as empty as the entry way.

He groans. “Nagito, I'm here!” letting irritation leak into his tone so the other boy knows he's in no mood for games. Truly, what could have been so important as to call him over right away?

Taking upset steps down the hall, Hajime feels his patience wane when still only silence greets him. 

“You _know_ I am busy at work this week,” he laments. Noticing the bedroom door ajar, he strides over quickly. “What the hell did I need to rush home for? Couldn't it have waited?”

The last word descends and dies on his tongue just as he comes to full view of the room. 

Perched at the edge of the bed is Komaeda, completely still, completely silent. His large green-gray eyes stare straight ahead; he lingers in another world. 

Hinata clicks his tongue. Of course. He was just _sitting there._

Annoyed at being ignored, and already denouncing the entire situation, he barges forward with stiff muscles, a string of curses locked in his lips.

Even towering before the other, the elegant contours of the pale face have yet to even twitch in recognition to his presence.

“Ahem.”

Startling, white lids flutter like pale wings. Regard fills Komaeda's eyes.

“Oh. Hajime-kun. You're here.”

Said so plainly, Hinata can't help but twitch in vexation. Restraining his temper, like a catapult pulled taut with stress, the brunette huffs a breath before speaking clearly. 

“Yes, I'm here. You called me and begged for me to come home for a moment, remember?” His forehead creases, tension toiling at his skin. “Why did I need to come over so suddenly? What's the big deal? Work is busy, couldn't you have just waited till I got home?”

His arms naturally cross themselves as he looks on through narrow eyes for answers. If they're anything but reasonable, he knows he's going to blow a gasket.

Komaeda watches him carefully, and the brunette would have been taken in by the intensity of that stare were he any less irked. But it is just so that he has more pressing issues on his mind; the need to fix whatever he needs to here, and get back to all that work piled up at his office as soon as he could. 

Every moment his boyfriend is stalling to speak is a moment wasted where he should be finishing up that important data file still open and empty on his desk. 

He's about to urge on once more before the other finally speaks up.

“I'm aware you're busy, and I'm sorry to take up some of your time, but this is important. And I didn't want to talk about it over the phone.” The albino's voice is calm and captivating as always, alerting Hinata to no signs of distress.

Turning to the glare of his watch, he nods, foot drumming in avidity. “Okay, I get it. So what is it?”

Komaeda nods, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “Right...well. I guess I'll say it quick them.”

“Mhmm? And?”

“...I'm leaving.”

Hinata glances up from the time briefly, his eyes taking every tic into account. He vaguely registers the words. “Okay...what does that mean? I've got about a few more minutes before I _really_ need to get back so the short version would be best.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath, gaze still strained to the small numbers and their mocking angles.

“Hajime. I'm _leaving_.”

Hearing something change in his lover's voice, he finally looks up and finds that he now stands face to face with the other, familiar and comforting features distorted into something not so comforting. Letting his wrist fall back to his side, he frowns, still not contemplating what this entire ordeal is about.

“Wait, I missed that. Where are you going? Does Twogami need you across state again?”

Komaeda's gaze escalates, lips pressed. “No. I'm getting on a train in less than forty minutes. I'm going to do some traveling, there are several places I've always wanted to go. Figured, why wait?”

This captures Hinata's full attention, frown deepening. “Why didn't you tell me sooner? Or wait till next week and we can go together. Work shouldn't be as heavy by then and I can maybe get a day or two off.”

Slowly, the taller boy shakes his head, white head of hair as untamed and appealing as ever. “No, I've already decided. I'm leaving today.”

A slight sting of hurt hits the brunette's chest, but he quickly replaces it with the assurance that he could finish his week's work quicker without any distractions. Relenting with a sigh, he crosses his arms, eyes closing of their own accord.

“Fine. Whatever. If that's all you wanted to tell me, then I better get going.” Hinata leans forward, offering a swift and sloppy aimed kiss to a paper white cheek before turning back to exit the bedroom. His fingers work to readjust his tie. “When will you be back? Friday? Next week?”

Once again, the quiet gives hesitation.

And then; “I'm not coming back.”

Hinata stills at the doorway. It takes a moment before he pivots around to stare at the other in incredulity. “...what?”

Komaeda sighs, and it's then that Hinata notices the fatigue beneath those eyes, the downward pull to the corner of those lips; there's a distinct slump to those shoulders that hadn't always been. 

It comes with the enlightenment that the entire _room_ is unbalanced. The large open closet holds only his dress shirts, the bed holds only one pillow, the volume of the room has grown with the lesser amount of stuff; everything is entirely half empty.

And he thinks now the palpating of his heart is two times too fast.

His head whips painfully fast at the sound of a zipper, and he turns to find a simple gray suitcase strap crossing over a sharp collar bone.

_No._

It's all his mind can echo.

_No._

_God, no. This is not happening._

Any paperwork in need of completion is forgotten in the throes of denial that spills forth from his veins. His throat chokes on the words and his mind deflects the reality of the situation.

“Nagito.” Is that his voice? He wonders when his words had become mere raspy whispers. 

Komaeda matches his desperate stare, his own a toxic mixture of regret and resolve.

The albino takes a shaky breath. “Don't...don't look at me like that.” His hands grasp at the strap of his bag, clutching in fists close to his chest. “That's not fair.”

Hinata's silent despair collapses; he cracks. “No. Nagito, no. I don't understand. Why...? Why would you...?”

Between the swell of anger and sorrow, cocoa colored eyes begin to sting. 

“You're asking me why?” It is Komaeda who now appears incredulous, his calm face faltering as his voice pitches. “Look around, Hajime. You don't need me here. In fact, I've been in your way, haven't I?”

Hinata moves to protest, cut off before his tongue can even tip a letter.

Komaeda steps forward. “And don't say you do. Don't say you need me. You didn't even notice all my stuff was _missing_.”

 _No_ , Hinata wants to scream. _No, I did notice. I did. I swear I did._

Lies.

“Hajime, you haven't even noticed that we've barely done anything together the last two months.”

_Yes, I have! I know, I do!_

_Lies._

Komaeda's eyes cloud over, sheen and wet. “And even if you say you want me to stay...I won't believe you...”

_Why? Why not?!_

The saddest, sweetest smile; the saltiest tear slips from the corner of his eye.

“Because...I don't make you very happy...do I Hajime?”

**Lie.**

**A complete lie.**

“Why would you think that?! Nagito, you're being ridiculous! Of course you make me happy! Wha...where did this even come from?!”

Gently, Komaeda tilts his head. Bitter and sweet and still small his smile remains. “You need someone made for you, Hajime-kun. I...I can't be that person. You can push for me to change for the rest of this lifetime but I won't ever be what you truly seem to desire.”

Another tear; his smile widens. “I can't be that person, Hajime-kun.”

 _No_ , rings again.

_No._

Hinata shakes his head and refuses acknowledge to the leak of his lids. “What are you talking about? I don't need...I don't want some different person.”

“I want,” he chokes, “I want _you_. Not someone else.”

“Hajime. You want me to be someone else. You don't want me.”

The brunette slumps to sit on the bed, his body weight feeling bloated with emotions. He peers up at the other boy, head still shaking back and forth. “No. No I want-”

“Someone less needy,” Komaeda interrupts, and he gives a dismal grin. “Someone who doesn't interrupt your work. Who will stay home while you go play employee. Who'll always dress proper, not in v-necks and jeans. Who would rather eat Chinese than Indian. Someone that won't 'force' you to watch murder mysteries to solve for fun; or one who prefers tea like you do, and not coffee.”

His words take like claws and start down Hinata's chalkboard chest. 

And it only continues. 

“You want someone who doesn't get in the way when you sleep.”

_“Nagito, you're flip flopping kept me up all night again. Why do you have to be such an antsy sleeper? Geez, and I have to get up early AM too.”_

“-doesn't borrow your stuff-”

_“Ugh, did you use my comb again? It's got your hair all over it. Don't you have your own?”_

“Or call you when your at work.”

_“Is there anything you needed, cause I'm kinda busy right now and using only one arm gets only half the work done. I can't be on the phone all day.”_

The words and memories drone on and on, drowning in Hinata's ears and pouring back out before diving in again just as painful. Similar to a wind up key, a knife has settled in his chest and twists with every sentence.

“No. Please. Stop. Stop saying things like that.” He clutches at his head, rib cage rattling and wracked with feelings that hurt to contain.

Komaeda still smiles sadly. “I'm actually surprised to hear that. I honestly thought you'd be relieved that I'm leaving. But,” he exhales loud, “it doesn't change my decision. I still have to go.”

Defiance springs forth and erupts like lava from the brunette's throat. He stands ardently, body angry, eyes sad. He spits and sputters his words, tongue slipping over the magma and bitter taste of bile risen from his stomach.

“You really thought that?” Hinata trembles, disbelief, “you...you really thought I would be happy seeing you go?” The piled tears gradually overflow, “We've been together for almost two years! How could you think that?! After everything?!”

Images of between-sheet euphoria, of mornings with hot drinks and close bodies, of seaside settings with one another in unadulterated bliss. Had his lover been so quick to lose sight of these? 

But his claims do nothing to ease the intensity of the boy before him. In fact, the storm in those eyes seem to have become a typhoon; a whirl of hurt condensed into two sockets.

“Hajime...” it is spoken so softly, he almost misses it. “Our two year anniversary was three days ago.”

 _Twist_ , the knife in his chest jerks roughly.

This cannot be happening. He refuses the idea that he has acted on so many mistakes, that his lover is leaving him, that he could be so heartless that he _missed their anniversary._

Yet he looks over and the calendar betrays him. Loopy letters familiar from his boyfriend's hand, uneven yet oddly elegant in design; written in blue ink with a smiley face on the side. It all blares the truth. He had completely forgotten it.

Hinata turns back to the other achingly slow. His blood boils with unbearable guilt. To meet those eyes would be an impossible task, so his chin remains to his chest. 

The damp and warm cheeks are suddenly embraced in a homely chill, cupped between lean fingers and purple-mapped wrists; his head is tilted up, and he feels his lungs quit from Komaeda being close enough to kiss.

A whisper; “I love you. Take care, Hajime-kun.”

Drawn forward, a bittersweet goodbye melts into his mouth unto the other. 

It falls away far too fast, and in the next moment, the taller boy is exiting the room. Steps lead to the sound of the front door swinging on it's hinges.

A trembling outstretched hand is left in the wake of events.

But all is brittle as the front door creaks it's farewell.

And he's gone.

**Author's Note:**

> eheh....sorry ^-^ (p.s; title inspired by the music- Naughty Boy: La La La)


End file.
